Genre

There is a scene in this film where someone describes the reason someone gets an abortion as not wanting to be bound to her husband. In that single, soul-scarring line, this film illustrates one of the nastier institutionalized mechanisms of patriarchy: the way patriarchal societies use maternal love against women. The implication that a woman might lose her children, or that she will be forced to sacrifice herself for them by remaining married to an unfit, cruel, or otherwise bad husband, or that they will suffer if she resists the patriarchy's control pervades that statement. That this exists in a film from 1954 is either radically forward or unintentional. I like to think it's unintentional, and here's why:

Although he has been left overshadowed by the masters of Japanese filmmaking at the time (Akira Kurosawa, Yasujiro Ozu, Kenji Mizoguchi), Mikio Naruse is amongst the most fascinating of Japanese filmmakers from the period for his own forays into melodrama. There's a beauty to the pessimism of Mikio Naruse's films and in Sound of the Mountain, never has it felt all the more profound in here. From what little I have seen of Mikio Naruse so far, it would not surprise me if Sound of the Mountain remains the best of his films, for he exposes a sort of raw form of emotion from his own pessimism. Naruse never shows everything all at once, but there's a specific power arising…

Naruse caustic sendoff of the Japanese family ideal as seen by cinema's clueless patriarch. It is in many ways a study of power and perspective with Yamamura's limited perspective in the series of often offscreen actions as well of his own misapplied use of force what is been contemplated by Naruse's gaze. Some of Setsuko Hara's finest work even more impressive when one notice how much her performance has to remain at remove both from the center of the action and also someone who has to use all of her power not to suffocate at Yamamura's point of view of her.

Subversion of mood and meaning jumbles up a viewer's expectations to a point that someone unfamiliar with such a thing might argue that the film feels mismanaged, scenes and ideas misplaced. It's an irony, I guess, which I moreso encounter in music than in movies, mostly because it's easier to get away with in music without the intention getting washed away. Mainstream listeners don't need to know a song is subtly sad if they can dance to it or enjoy it regardless. But a film offers more chances and avenues for contradiction. It isn't simply listening to the words that gives these things away. Having a bad person treated as a protagonist, having a film feel resolved even if everything…

Sound of the Mountain is one of the few movies I've seen that fully live up to their reputation. What a nuanced, beautiful, and melancholy film! But it wouldn't have been the same without the sublime Setsuko Hara. Everyone talks about her work with Ozu, and rightly so, but she's so great in this masterpiece from Naruse. Can't wait to see more of his films, especially those with Hara. For my money no other actress can better convey tears through a subtle smile like she often does here. She didn't need to be expressive for us to see her sadness. But she doesn't remain a victim of her domestic situation. Thanks to the emotional and spiritual support by her father-in-law she ends up taking matters in her own hands. This relationship is one of the most beautiful I've ever seen in a movie. This needs to be on DVD Criterion!

It may be inevitable that modern ethical standards stand up and shout towards Naruse's take on such themes. So, it is true that Juno fans would not accept such personal decisions, but this masterpiece gives the proper emphasis on family values and the power of tradition, something that hardly do foreign nations understand. Implications are out there; great human beings overcome consequences and do not care about the uninvited opinions of others as long as they stand truthfully for their ideals without harming others.

Kikuko is a married woman who, despite being beset by problems, always puts on an upbeat façade, particularly when talking to her caring parents-in-law. The biggest issue she faces is her crumbling relationship with husband Shuichi, an officious individual who is cheating on her. Watching Shuichi’s sister interact unenthusiastically with her own children, Kikuko begins to question the virtues of raising a child from an unhappy marriage, and soon accepts that her own fate is as good as doomed. Disappointed by the negligence of his own children, father-in-law Shingo lavishes attention on Kikuko and provides her with succour. The relationship grows stronger than ever, transcending familial boundaries, but Shingo is constantly…

Mikio Naruse’s SOUND OF THE MOUNTAIN — an adaption of Nobel Prize winner Yasunari Kawabata’s novel of the same name — deals with parent(-in law)-child relations, ageing and marriage and not in the least with letting go. In the end, an open prospect stretched out before their eyes.